Page 31 of Wicked Dove
Professor Morton purses her lips. “There is one girl, but I don't know if that's a good idea,” she admits, glancing down the hallway.
“Why?” I ask with a frown, but the professor doesn’t answer. Kael’s friend, however, does.
“She's psychotic.”
Glancing back at him, his smirk is undeniable.
“I already like her more than him,” I insist as a look passes between her and Kael.
If he's forcing me to be here, the least he can do is accommodate me somehow.
“Okay, then,” Morton mutters, waving for us to walk down the hall. “Institute Thirteen is one of many housing quarters that form part of The Vale. You will attend classes with the other institutes. Your timetable will be available to you tomorrow morning, and I'm sure your guardian will assist you in finding your way. Your uniform will be provided. I will ensure it is brought to your new room as opposed to Kael’s, along with the rules of Institute Thirteen. Any questions?” she asks as she stops at a door on the left.
I shake my head and she knocks on the door, not waiting for a response before she opens it. Stepping inside, I glance around at the pale-pink room. Two twin beds sit on opposite sides of the space, a nightstand beside each of them, with matching desks at the bottom of both. A doorway leads off to the left, and another to the right.
To the left looks like a walk-in closet, and to the right, I can see the outline of a bathroom vanity. The right-hand side of the room is stacked with belongings that are clearly not mine. In contrast, the left is bare and untouched.
Curiosity over who my roommate will be begins to formulate in my mind based on the scattered books, random belongings, and country music playing from a small speaker on theirnightstand. Turns out, I didn’t have to wait for long because a girl appears in the doorway to the ensuite with a bloody knife in her hand, poised and ready to wield.
A sinister grin splits her face, her blond hair braided down her back, and her clothes are as speckled with the same crimson stain as her knife.
The teacher clears her throat. “Elodie, this is Ocean, your new roommate.”
NINE
ELODIE
The door closes behind me with a thud, confirming the departure of Professor Morton, Kael, and his friend, leaving me with my new roommate.
I blink at her and she exhales, her shoulders slumping before she shakes it off and hurries to the window that sits in the middle of the wall across from me. She nips on her bottom lip, watching, waiting, until she bounces on the balls of her feet, spinning to me with a smile.
“I’m going to assume they warned you against rooming with me,” she states, and I nod. “Did they call me psychotic?”
I frown.Why does she look excited by the fact?
“That’s the exact word they used,” I murmur, and she beams.
“Excellent,” she squeals, fist bumping the air before realizing she’s still wielding a knife. “Oh, uh, sorry. Let me get rid of this,” she explains, waving the knife around in a more casual fashion, before she turns back into the ensuite, the sound of the running faucet echoing in the room a few moments later.
I don't move an inch, but curiosity gets the better of me. “Do you always walk around with a bloody knife?”
She laughs, amusement clear in her tone. “Only when someone is pissing me off,” she offers, and I grin.
“Good to know. But to clarify, whose blood is that?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t say an old roommate. Her laugh is louder this time, a cackle that comes all the way from her stomach.
“Oh, it's red dye,” she explains, and I blink.
“Red dye?” I repeat, and I can hear her giggle.
The faucet turns off and a moment later, she reappears in the doorway, a grin across her face.
“Yeah, so they all leave me the fuck alone,” she states, and I nod.
“That’s fair.”
She leans against the doorway, folding her arms over her chest as she rakes her eyes over me from head to toe. “So, what brings you to Institute Thirteen?”
Pursing my lips, I decide to observe her as intently as she assesses me, avoiding her question for a little longer. There's no blood on her clothes anymore, revealing a pink and white gingham-checked dress that falls mid-thigh with spaghetti straps keeping it in place. There are no crimson speckles in her blonde hair either. She looks exactly like a mean girl would back home, and far from psychotic.
